Chase had the bright idea to film the 24 hour challenge for his YouTube channel and since there were a bunch of massive trampolines constructed in the front room of the Hype House he coudln’t think of a better place to do it.
He was running on Bang energy drinks, capri suns, and Twix, which was making him feel high in energy now but he knew the crash was coming. He just wasn’t sure when. The guys were being relatively insane, doing flips on the trampoline, running around throwing things at each other… Chase had just attempted to learn a backflip.
He knew that you were probably asleep already, curled up in his bed wanting to drown out the noise. The house was overstimulating and the noise always bothered you the most. He’d wanted to ask you to sleep with him on the trampoline, to help him ward off his nightmares of the terrible events of his younger years. However, sleeping on the trampoline wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his bed and he didn’t want you to have to sleep on it just for him.
So when you’d offered, he’d politely declined and he hadn’t missed the look of relief on your face about getting to be away from the noise and chaos of the house.
You’re wrapped up in the covers of Chase’s bed, drifting in and out of sleep. Falling asleep because the bed was so damn comfortable and smelled of Chase, and waking up searching for the warmth of his body and coming up short. At first you think you’re dreaming, and then as the screams grow louder you realize that if only it was.
“NOOO!” He screams, his voice ripping through the house. “NOT Y/N!”
You shoot up out of bed, dressed only in one of Chase’s band shirts. You throw the door open, rushing towards the stairs and catching yourself right before you fall down the stairs and kill yourself.
“Stop! Please STOP!”
You reach the bottom of the stairs and slam your hand onto the tablet panel on the wall, desperate to turn on the lights. They finally flick on after you’ve smacked the panel multiple times. The first sight that you see is your boyfriend, thrashing on the trampoline, covers wrapped around his legs trapping him in a way. He lets out a broken sob, more please falling from his lips.
You’re across the room in barely a second, jumping onto the trampoline and wrapping your arms around the tall, panicking figure that is your boyfriend. “Chase!” You yell, sliding your fingers into his hair and pulling to keep his head from smashing into your body or the hard rim of the trampoline.
“Chase it’s ME!”
His chest is heaving and his hair is damp to the touch. His eyes shoot open, wild with his pupils blown wide. “Y/N!” He breathes out, voice hoarse from his screaming. He pulls you into his chest, his arms tight around you. So tight that you can barely breathe but you let him, let him breathe in the lingering smell of your shampoo, snake a hand under your shirt so he can feel more of you’re skin, let him relish in your presence so he knows that he’s okay. That he’s safe.
After what feels like an hour he finally murmurs quietly into your neck; “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
You shake your head, press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t be sorry babe. Come to bed, okay?”
Instead he twists with you still in his arms and lays you down on the surface. He rests his head on your chest, the rest of him lying next to you because he doesn’t want to squish you. “I love you,” he whispers, just as you say, “I’m here.”
You both fall asleep quickly after that, being in each other’s presence calming the both of you and finally allowing Chase to escape his demons
